


Cough Syrup

by Vanilla_Ella



Series: Roommates AU [3]
Category: Bandom, Twenty One Pilots
Genre: Angst, Cancer, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Sad Tyler, Terminal Illnesses, Unrequited Love, it seems, sick josh, two tired boys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-02
Updated: 2018-02-17
Packaged: 2018-11-08 04:55:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,223
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11074476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vanilla_Ella/pseuds/Vanilla_Ella
Summary: In a world where two boys' suffering seems endless, they find that the only thing that extends further than mental or physical illness is love.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello frens :)
> 
> Sorry I haven't been uploading for awhile; the last weeks of school were pretty hectic and very busy, however I hope to write a lot during the summer!
> 
> I know a lot of people around the world suffer from health conditions like myself, and I feel so bad for them, especially for my clique frens. I hope you like this small, sick drabble and it makes you feel a little better <333

Gold and red fall in the form of gliding leaves, bursting with their fiery colors.

Pilot whimpers in his arms, and he sighs, brushes his white hair back with his pale fingers.

"It's okay, buddy," Josh affirms softly, voice raspy.

His pillow is still cold under his head, cooling his already frozen cheek. Gray eyes blink slowly, then close, and Pilot is asleep.

His only companion has left him for a world of fantasy, and Josh can't blame him.

He shivers, pulls the plaid button-up tighter around himself, ignores the sharp ribs sticking out around his middle. 

His bones ache and creak as he turns in his bed, letting out a shaky breath as he stares at the glass of water on his bedside drawer, the inhaler lying beside it.

The gust of wind doesn't go unnoticed as it stirs the leaves in the air and sends them swirling in the city air, and Josh feels a shiver travel up his spine, as if he can feel the cold through cement walls.

Dark lashes fall close against pale cheeks.

 

•••••

 

A few soft steps, a cautious hand encircling a silver knob and opening the door with a muted creak.

Pilot peeks up, but, knowing better than to begin making sound, waits beside the sleeping boy until Tyler's closer, immediately nuzzling into the out-reached hand when it gets close enough. 

"How'd you get it, mister?" Tyler murmurs softly in his most stern voice, but Pilot simply cocks his head, sticking his tongue out and panting happily.

Tyler smiles briefly before it disappears like a ghost, and sinks down until he's kneeling beside the bed, retracting his hand before he places it on Josh's arm. 

Delicate lids flutter at the warm touch, and coffee eyes open halfway not long after.

His sleep-bought is so light nowadays, Tyler wonders if he ever gets past the muddled mess of being half-awake and half-asleep.

"Hey best friend," Tyler greets with a soft grin, heart sighing when Josh does his best to reciprocate his smile.

His eyes, though dim, sparkle the tiniest bit, and Tyler takes that as a blessing.

"Salutations," Josh returns before his eyes widen, his hand flying to cover his mouth as he begins coughing violently, the shallow breaths racking his chest.

Tyler is quick, grabs the glass just at his side and sits on the bed, pulling his best friend up to lean against him.

"It's okay, you're alright," Tyler says with a prayer that he doesn't sound as alarmed and frantic as he feels, splaying his hand against Josh's chest and rubbing him soothingly, carefully pressing the rim of the glass against Josh's almost blue lips.

He tries not to wince as he feels every cough vibrate in Josh's chest, as if his very bones will break and fall apart if he even breathed too hard.

"Drink some water, it'll help," Tyler pleads softly, waiting until Josh manages to swallow his throat down for just a moment's time to take a small sip. 

The coughs stop as soon as the liquid begins traveling down his burning throat, and Tyler sighs in relief, his arms subconsciously wrapping tighter around his best friend.

He listens to the ragged breaths that he's become so used to, and mildly notes that if anyone else had ever heard Josh cough, they'd wonder how he escaped being admitted to the morgue.

A few minutes pass, and Tyler slows his heart that worked itself up (What a silly heart).

"You okay, Joshie?" he inquires when he knows his best friend can talk again without having that burn in his throat.

He simply hums in response, sagging in Tyler's arms like a doll, head lying on his shoulder as he tries to regulate his breaths once more.

Tyler, knowing Josh's struggle as the slight wheezing sound fills the air, takes his hand, begins breathing deep and slow.

Josh matches his patterns.

And they fall into silence in the same way that the sun descends into its grave.

 

•••••

 

"I have to go, Josh."

He groans, shakes his head pleadingly. He's being clingy, he knows it (somewhere in his cloudy brain), but he can't help himself when he reaches out, weakly grasping Tyler's shirt in his hand and tugging like a newborn.

"Stay," he mumbles as he ignores the searing pain that shoots through his throat when he speaks.

Tyler seems to melt, the determined look in his eyes softening as he grasps Josh's hand, kneels beside the bed and brushing his hand through his curls.

"I have to go, I'm sorry," he sighs. "I wish I could stay, but we have to make rent this month, remember?"

He barely registers his hand slip out of Tyler's, and he frowns as he cough bubbles from his throat, looking towards the ceiling.

The mention of the waiting bill immediately fills Josh with guilt, the thought of his inadequacy as a flat mate turning his brain black and sour.

"Don't do that," he hears Tyler admonish as a gentle thumb swipes away a teardrop from his cheek. "I know what you're thinking, don't."

If anyone knew how destructive thought could be, it was Tyler.

A minute passes (another one wasted on Josh's behalf), and Tyler, no longer having time to wait and see if his friend will even look at him, brushes the forest green curls from his face and mutters some soft words of farewell before he slips away.

 

••••••

 

Monday night finds Tyler sitting at the kitchen table, staring at the pile of papers and bills blankly.

The dim light coming from the ceiling bulbs cast a faint golden glow over him, painting dark shadows in the corners of the room.

Eyes tired and mind slowly ticking, Tyler shifts the papers in his hands, glances over them a couple of times. 

The silence around him is welcome; he'd take it over Josh crying any day.

Even though he's not really registering the words on the paper, he distracts himself with them for as long as he can, the sight of a small, near stack of bills just waiting beside his forgotten, room temperature cup of red bull.

It's an hour of sitting there, mindlessly glancing over the company's stock numbers before he forces himself to put them down, deciding to work on them the next day.

Gingerly, he reaches tiredly for the bills, opening each letter.

Electrical. Water. Gas.

Tyler sighs, tugging his eyelids down in a display of frustration and exhaustion.

It takes 20 minutes before he begins writing checks and signing papers.

His hands shake as he writes with the pen, ink nearly spilling out of the fountain pen into a black mess just under the tip.

He frowns, goes over the numbers, calculating.

They seem to keep coming, the services demanding for money back. 

He signs them all, flinching at the number displayed by the past hospital bills cumulated over the last few months.

Josh's health was no doubt declining, and Tyler tries not to think too hard about it, knowing he will absolutely go insane if he faces the reality of it.

He's holding his breath until he signs the last paper, sighing in relief as he checks his bank account. 

By some miracle, there's just enough money for groceries.

He collapses back into his seat, running his hands over his face and glancing at the clock.

2:33 AM.

A weird, strangled sound escapes his lips, sounding like a whine and a sigh all at once.

He's completely drained by the time he forces himself to stand up, joints weak and threatening to drop him.

He's 23, for fuck's sake. He shouldn't be so damn tired that he barely makes it to the couch just a few feet away before he collapses onto it.

The material is slightly rough and itchy under his skin, but he doesn't even care anymore.

He could be sleeping on rocks and it would be heaven because he can finally close his eyes.

Work in only a few hours haunt the back of his brain, and before he knows it, an alarm from his phone is blaring.

 

•••••••

 

Tyler says goodbye, kisses Josh's forehead and offers one last tiny, tired smile before departing.

Josh feels sick, not only with his stomach but with his feelings.

The pain in his head and in his body is nothing compared to the one in his heart, telling him he doesn't deserve Tyler, he doesn't deserve anything.

Instead, he tells himself he deserves to soak in the misery of being alone.

 

••••••••

 

It's Tuesday night when Tyler wakes up, two hours of sleep under his belt and tucked away in the dark half-circles under his eyes, to Josh crying his lungs out.

His drive to quickly get out of bed and help comfort his suffering boy is nearly nonexistent, his sheer tiredness nearly taking over.

It's scary to think that Tyler could nearly fall asleep with his best friend screaming in pain, but his weariness and misplaced trust in the ineffective pills make the perfect concoction for doing so.

Regardless, Tyler forces himself up, tiredly moves over to Josh's room. Early in the morning he can't find it in himself to pretend he isn't dead-tired, and he simply pushes the door open, glides across the room with light, bare footsteps before he collapses onto the empty half side of Josh's twin bed.

"Baby, no more," he slurs, still half-asleep as he lies down and pulls Josh into his arms as gently as he can.

The fingernails that claw at his chest leave soft, red marks before fists grasp his shirt, the boy in his arms gasping in pain.

Even the smallest stomach bugs can quickly turn into an agonizing nightmare for Josh, the tiniest of colds developing into serious fevers overnight. 

Tyler's used to it now, knows that Josh just needs to be held during the times when it hurts the most.

When he begins softly crying and begging Tyler to make it stop, his heart clenches.

"I'm sorry, Joshie," he mumbles into his hair. "Just wait for the pain to leave, okay?"

It doesn't impact Tyler too much when Josh shakes his head, because the verdant-haired boy really has no other choice.

It's hours before Josh stops crying, finally having passed out from exhaustion and pain.

Tyler's endless gratitude is short-lived, the burden of keeping Josh company in the world of the living falling from his shoulders with a heavy thud.

He's asleep for half an hour before his alarm goes off.

 

••••••

 

"Earth to Joseph." 

Fingers snap in his face, jolting Tyler to consciousness.

"Dude, you were sleeping with your eyes open," Patrick notes, the worry on his face evident.

The brunet sighs, scrubs his face with his hand once, desperately ignoring the pull of sleep as soon as it begins calling.

"Boss says you have to file these," Patrick says hesitantly, gently placing a large stack of papers on the desk.

Tyler immediately feels his heart begin to sink at the sight of it, his bitter mind questioning how he'd even be awake to do it.

He's just so, so damn tired.

"Want me to get you some coffee?" is the last thing the ginger-haired man asks, ever the office-sweetheart.

It takes a second for Tyler to even register that a question's been inquired. He's just that tired. 

"No," he mumbles, stretching out in his uncomfortable seat and glancing around the blank walls of his cubicle. "I think I'll just grab a red bull later or something."

Patrick nods hesitantly, casting one last concerned glance at Tyler before walking away.

He completely deflates once his co-worker is gone, a heavy (almost whiny) exhale of breath escaping his mouth as he glances at the papers again.

The end of the day is all he's looking forward to though he knows it doesn't have much to offer.

 

•••••••

 

It's Thursday night when Josh hears it. 

He'd sat up in his bed, his mind spinning and stomach churning. The urge to vomit or drink water or do something to ease his stomach pain is nearly overwhelming as he groans.

Normally, he'd call for Tyler during the times when it hurt this bad, but his reluctance stops him from opening his mouth, the guilt of having an over-worked, tired boy come to his aid too cruel for him to fathom.

A sharp jolt stabs his chest as he tries to wheeze in a breath, his throat feeling blocked. Panic bubbles up, and his hand frantically darts out to grab his inhaler, pressing it into his mouth and breathing in the medicine for a second.

The pain dissipates from his chest, and he breathes easily as he calms himself.

A contraction of pain seizes his stomach in the flash of the moment he gets himself to relax, and it hurts enough to cloud his vision with pained tears, a louder moan spilling from his mouth.

He clamps a hand over his lips as he hears all the sounds he's making through his pain, but it's too late; before he knows it, a dark silhouette is bending over him.

The bedside lamp flickers on, the small yet dim light blinding Josh and spreading spots all over his already cloudy vision.

He throws an arm over his eyes in an almost delirious manner, moaning and rolling in a sea of confusion and pain. 

Gentle hands and even gentler whispers touch the skin just above his heart, rubbing and soothing over him.

He feels tears drop from heaven onto his cheeks, but he can't find it in himself to open his eyes, to stop whining like a little pathetic creature.

Josh can't assure Tyler he's okay, can't force a smile onto his face and pretend his stomach isn't eating itself, not tonight.

He can't fight tonight. He doesn't have much in him left to even do so. 

The nights like these are the times when he lets himself fall completely, lets himself sob out his pain and sickness and acknowledge it instead of trying to sweep it under the rug.

It hurts so much, not only for Josh, but for the both of them.

Josh feels horrible, because his best friend always cries when he does, the testimony of this truth spilling in droplets of liquid onto his face and his body.

On nights like these, Tyler curls beside Josh, a heavy yet comforting arm slung over his delicate waist as he waits for him to pass out from pain or exhaustion. 

Tyler brushes the curls out of his face, wipes his sweaty brow as he suffers and suffers. 

He pretends that Josh's pain is more important than his own, because it's physical and not mental. He pretends he hasn't been up all night crying over papers and unpaid bills, because sometimes he's just so tired.

He pretends it doesn't kill him to sleep for only a few hours a day, only to wake up to Josh either moaning or sometimes screaming in pain. He pretends he doesn't feel guilty when he leaves his best friend to suffer alone when he has money to make, food and shelter to buy for the both of them. With Josh so sick often, he hasn't worked in months, and although Tyler doesn't blame him or resent his weak immune system, he can't help but grow weary.

When Tyler wakes up every morning and hopes its his last, he pretends that it's okay.

The agony they go through on their worst nights know no bounds.


	2. Chapter Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just when you thought the suffering was over, I'm resurrecting this story again

Tyler rubs his eyes, placing his keys in the small bowl beside the door. He toes off his uncomfortable, black shoes and shrugs off his heavy overcoat, going through the motions of the same bland routine he followed nearly every day after work.

His hair is still a little damp with rain, but he doesn't mind too much. The winter showers of nature are definitely just as cold as the warmest ones in his own crummy apartment, so he's used to it.

He walks over to the couch, somehow able to find it in himself to smile gently as he sits by a sleeping Josh, placing a hand on his shoulder.

Josh coughs a little in his muddled sleep, lids fluttering a bit. 

He looks up at Tyler tiredly, eyes half-lidded and puffy with exhaustion. But there's a faint smile on his lips as well.

"Ty," he murmurs, pulling his arm out from under the sleeping puppy beside him, so gently that Pilot simply sniffs in his slumber.

He lets out a sweet sigh as Tyler quickly descends, embracing him tightly, lying as gently as he can above Josh as he buries his face into the crook of the other boy's neck. 

Josh smells so sweet, delicious. Coconut vacations and the sweet scent of sleep and death fill Tyler's brains with endorphins as he breathes him in, feeling just a little more alive after a tiring day.

"Work?" 

Tyler doesn't bother to lift his face, only cuddles closer to Josh. "Tiring, but okay," he answers shortly, not one to ever be fond of discussing business in his own home. 

Josh doesn't say much for a while once Tyler feels him nod, only begins running thin fingers through his hair.

"Ty...?" he whispers, long silent moments having passed, almost lulling Tyler to sleep if it had not been for his roommate's gentle voice calling him back.

"Yeah?" he yawns a little.

"I have to tell you something.."

Tyler nods absently, the three hours of sleep catching up to him and the countless red bulls and coffee draining out of his system, making him droop wearily against Josh, even though if he were more awake, he'd be horrified at the aspect of crushing his sweetheart.

Joshie's so fragile, so delicate.

"Later, please," Tyler mumbles, gently kissing his neck and missing the way it sends shivers down Josh's spine, makes his eyes flutter close as a soft tingle of pleasure sparks in his heart.

His very sick, sick heart.

"Jus' wanna sleep," he whispers, and his brain begins slowly shutting off, the world around him stopping its revolving for a moment.

It's at this time that Josh is undoubtedly his everything, his warmth, his protection.

"Sleep," Josh murmurs although it's getting harder to breathe as Tyler's entire dead weight sags against him, although he feels like his windpipes are being tied off with the burning truth hiding behind his skin, behind his bones.

"I'll be here when you wake up," he promises.

 

•••••

 

"It's just a little...I don't know," he shrugs defeatedly. "Don't you think it would be...weird?"

Patrick frowns at his coworker, placing his chin in his palm as he stares at Tyler curiously. "The only weird thing here, Tyler Joseph, is the fact that you're somehow awake even though you look half-dead."

The brunet frowns, rubs his eyes (which, undoubtedly, has dark circles under them). "I know," he groans, running a hand over his slight stubble as he mumbles behind his hand, "I always look half-dead."

Patrick frowns sympathetically at the statement, sighing a little as he places his untouched coffee on Tyler's desk without much hesitation. 

"Drink it."

In any other circumstance, Tyler would refuse the offer, never having liked coffee all too much, and even more so disliking taking things from other people. But he knows Patrick, knows his good taste in drinks and his kind disposition, so he takes it sluggishly, reluctant yet grateful. 

The first sip is like a caramel creme heaven, and Tyler sighs.

"Thank you," he mumbles, wondering how he somehow had the luck to end up having such a lovely friend working in the next-door cubicle.

The strawberry-blonde man simply smiles and nods. "You needed it more than I do," he admits with a shrug. "Anyways, what I was saying, you should just bite the bullet and take the first step. I'm sure even if he didn't feel the same, he would still appreciate and love you all the more."

"I don't know if I can do it, Patrick," Tyler replies quietly, feeling a few jitters begin taking control of his fingers as they shake around the sturdy paper cup in his hands. Even just thinking about confessing to Josh made him feel nervously sick. "If he didn't feel the same way about me as I do about him, I think I would go insane."

"From what you've told me about him, there's no way he doesn't love you," Patrick frowns. "Come on, Tyler, you both share an apartment, have a dog--you're practically married and living the white picket fence dream."

Tyler shakes his head, making sure to squash the hopeful feeling rising in his stomach at Patrick's words as soon as he can. "No, no, no. He'd never feel the same--"

"Tyler..."

"There's just no way," Tyler sighs hopelessly. "And besides, Valentine's is only in a few days. I'd never be able to work up the courage if I had all the time in the world."

Patrick adjusts his glasses, quirking his mouth to one side in a disapproving manner. "Well," he concludes in a defeated tone, "I guess that means Josh will always be up for grabs, then." 

The statement makes Tyler glare at Patrick. "Not on anyone's life," he huffs, internally cringing at the thought of anyone trying to touch his Joshua. 

No one was worthy of him anyway.

"Then you better snatch him up!" Patrick declares, throwing his hands in the air like it's the most simple solution in the world, walking over to his cubicle and successfully closing off any more discussion on the subject. 

And thus Tyler spends the rest of his day with a pout on his full lips and a single thought on his mind:

'What if?' 

 

•••••

 

Tyler watches Josh silently, swirling the warm water in his hands slowly and pushing the pink bubbles towards the green-haired boy.

He's kneeling beside the tub, holding one of Josh's hands per his request, feeling how warm the water is and wondering what it would be like to take a warm bath or shower again. He doesn't regret using all of the hot water in their apartment to draw Josh his daily baths Tyler often finds himself forcing the other boy into, but he sometimes wonders what it would be like to keep the hot water for himself for once, as selfish as it sounds.

Josh is always thankful, staring up at Tyler with his syrup-sweet eyes.

"Please," he whispers for the third time that night, tugging his hand. "Come in, Ty."

The brunet frowns, and as inviting and relaxing as Josh's innocent invitation sounds, he's grown too used to rejecting them when they pop up every night, the fear of crossing a boundary or reacting negatively (one could say) to feeling Josh's naked body pressed against him in the small tub too risky to even fathom.

"I'm fine here, Joshie," Tyler reassures him, although a part of him is screaming, reprimanding him harshly for denying such an offer.

Josh looks let down, the smile from his face drooping a little as he hangs his head, pretending to study the bubbles when all he's really trying to do is hide his disappointment.

Tyler sees right through him though, as usual, and he sighs.

It's a usual Saturday night.

 

••••••

 

Tyler gets out of bed, Monday morning shining bright and burning his eyes. 

He's half asleep as he tugs on his work clothes, movements slow and sluggish. 

Josh had another episode late Sunday night, crying to the high heavens and gasping for breath. 

It scared Tyler to no end, even though he was dead tired from working eleven hours prior. He held Josh tightly, forced him to use his inhaler probably more times than he should have and made him drink countless glasses of water.

It took a long while before Josh stopped crying, having seemed more worked up than usual. It was something that undoubtedly caught his attention, when Josh began whispering over and over, "I'm dying, I'm dying," in the dark of night.

Tyler wondered if he should bring Josh to the hospital again, but winced internally at the thought of the cost. 

It's a heavy burden, only making just enough money at a job he hated just to scrape his way by. They could barely afford keeping their apartment some weeks, much less afford the countless medications Josh was prescribed by the doctors.

Tyler bites his lip, quickly banishing the thought before he lost himself in his unpleasant reverie. He only has the present to pay attention to, and he sighs.

Before he leaves, he opens the door to Josh's room, tiptoeing over and kissing the sleeping boy's cheek.

He stares at his sleeping form up close for a few moments, watches how, even in sleep, his breathing pattern stutters, irregulates. 

"Love you, J," he finds himself whispering, pressing his lips to his pale cheek when he can't find it in himself to walk away just yet.

It always hurts leaving his best friend alone, especially with how fragile his condition is. But Tyler only gulps, knows it'll be twelve more hours until he's able to see him again.

"Goodbye, my love," he whispers before quietly stalking out of the room, sending one last, longing glance at his boy before silently shutting the door.

Behind it, Tyler sighs heavily, and Josh opens his tear-filled eyes.

 

•••••

 

Wednesday comes quickly, the few days sprinting past as blurs of working, sleeping a few hours, paying bills, keeping Josh company when he wasn't feeling well. 

Tyler barely notices it's Valentine's Day, only when Patrick places a small box of heart shaped donuts on his desk does the holiday come to his mind.

"So...?" Patrick drawls before Tyler can get a chance to thank him, lifting an eyebrow as he adjusts his glasses. "You asking your man out tonight or what?"

As stupid as it is, Tyler can't help the almost childlike blush that spreads over his cheeks at the thought, the slight nervousness that begins rolling in his belly. "I don't know," he says slowly, looking down and toying with his pen for some small distraction.

With how busy he'd been, he hadn't had much time to mull over the idea, although a part of him seriously doubted he'd ever do it.

"Tyler," Patrick sighs, walking over into his small cubicle and leaning against his desk, crossing his pale arms. "You know it's gotta happen, sooner or later. I mean, hell, you've been toying with this idea since you first told me a couple of years ago."

Tyler sighs heavily. "I know."

A pregnant pause stretches for a few minutes, and Patrick reaches over, patting his shoulder. "It'll work out, Ty. You just got to give it a chance."

Tyler's sure a small butterfly of hope has grown in his stomach with his coworker's words, and he smiles, looking up at the older man.

"Thank you," he says softly.

"Of course," Patrick smiles, patting his shoulder one more time before standing up to leave.

The butterfly stays in his stomach for the rest of the day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What was supposed to be a 2000 word one shot for Valentine's Day has doubled in size and it's not even finished, so I decided, hey it's already messed up, why not split this one shot in two?
> 
> Hope it's decent :/ if I somehow get the time to finish it today, the next part will be up tomorrow...but if it isn't, it'll be out on Friday or something (I'm really sorry, I'm trying to haul butt over here but school)
> 
> Hope you all are doing alright :) I love and care about each and every one of you! <333
> 
> (Also I love Patrick Stump can you tell XD)


	3. Chapter Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> turns out the next part would be 4500+ words if I crammed it all into one update, which I was hoping to avoid already via my earlier split.
> 
> ...I can't just write short chapters when I want to, huh?
> 
> oh and Happy V Day ily

Tyler can't remember the last time he ever felt so nervous.

And that was saying a lot, considering the fact that he's been hours away from being evicted once. 

He's straightened his constricting tie for what had to be a million times, smoothed his hair as best as he could.

The supermarket flowers he picked up, although cheap and somewhat wilted at the very edges, are clutched in his hands tightly, as if they're the most precious belongings in the world.

It's silly, to be standing so nervously and a few seconds away from vomiting on his own front door, but that's where he finds himself, straight out of work, 5:30 P.M.

It takes a couple of minutes before he clears his throat, opening the door with his sweaty keys. 

Pilot bounds up to him immediately, barking loudly. It makes Tyler smile, feel a little more at ease as he reaches down, pets the little puppy's hair gently.

"Hey sweetheart," he whispers, shifting the flowers in his tight grip and kissing the pup's head.

The smile quickly disappears when he hears a few coughs, only becoming aware of the clatters in the kitchen when he stands up, quietly walking over.

It's so foreign to hear any sort of sound, with Josh being so sickly so often, he was barely up and walking, basically bedridden for the majority of the time.

He's unable to stop a gasp from escaping his lips at the sight in the kitchen however, or the sudden rush of protective energy surging through him and forcing him to quickly sprint forward.

Caution thrown to the wind, he tosses the bouquet on the counter, wrapping steadying arms around Josh's torso tightly.

"The frick are you doing, Josh?" he cries, the image of Josh slightly swaying over the stove burned into brain. 

Josh is tense for a moment, but he leans back once he hears Tyler's voice, sagging against him. 

"Ty," he sighs, and the brunet tries to stop himself from burying his face into Josh's neck when the emerald hair boy relaxes, but he can't help it. "Thank goodness you're here," Josh lets out a breathless, humorless chuckle. "My knees were about to buckle."

"Josh!" Tyler admonishes, part angry but mostly concerned, the food on the stove forgotten as he drags his best friend over to the table, setting him down on a chair gently. 

Josh collapses like a rag doll, and he looks so relieved to be sitting again, legs shaking from being used for much longer than he was used to.

Tyler drops to his knees in front of him, grabbing his hands. 

"Baby, why on earth are you even up?" The pet name slips out too easily, the fantasies of calling Josh so many similar sweet names in the throes of midnight accidentally escaping without much thought. 

"I felt well enough to make dinner," Josh declares with a shrug, and he's doing that thing, where he's keeping his eyes down and tapping his foot nervously. 

He's lying.

Tyler sits back on his feet slightly, frowning. "Josh--"

"It's almost done," he interrupts, pointing at the stove. "Just give it a couple more minutes."

The brunet stares at him for a few minutes, knowing the intimidation will be too much for Josh to stay silent for long.

And he's right, because after a few moments have passed, he's speaking.

"It's Valentine's Day," Josh glances up at Tyler, his syrup eyes so sweet and his words soft. "I just..." he sighs. "I wanted to do something for you.."

Tyler feels his heartbeat pick up a little, and he gulps, suddenly feeling nervous again.

"That's... that's really sweet, Joshie," he croaks, releasing his hands and moving over to the stove. He turns it off, as Josh had requested, opening the lid and and finding it in himself to smile lightly.

He carries the pot over to the table, placing it on the lone oven mitt in the middle.

"You remembered my favorite?" Tyler inquires softly, hopefully, gesturing to the stir fry in the pot.

"Of course I did."

That makes him smile even wider, the nervous butterflies dissolving mostly as Josh grins back. 

Flowers popping back into mind, Tyler walks over to the counter, grabbing the flowers hesitantly.

He shakes a little, smile faltering a bit when Josh's eyes widen a bit at the sight of the yellow daisies.

"Umm..." he begins like an idiot, somewhat lost for words although he practiced what he wanted to say all day in the back of his brain. Suddenly, all preparation is out the window. "I.."

Josh looks up at him, holding his gaze steadily, and there's something about the way he's looking at Tyler that tells the latter he needs to shut up, that there's no need for words.

Tyler quietly extends the flowers out to him, barely able to hold eye contact with the other boy with how nervous he suddenly feels again.

What if Josh doesn't like the flowers? What if he begins laughing at Tyler? What if he's never thought about Tyler that way?

Doubts begin swimming in his brain, drowning him. It's worse when Josh silently takes the bouquet into his hands gently, staring at them silently for a little.

'He doesn't like it,' his brain screams. 'Frick, he doesn't like it--'

"Tyler," Josh calls softly, looking up and grabbing one of his hands, effectively silencing the brunet's brain.

He stands up slowly, wincing as his joints begin burning but smiling through it. Tyler quickly steadies him with his hands, one on Josh's hip and the other cupping his sharp elbow.

He swears his heart stops when Josh places the flowers on the table, raising his hands and cupping the brunet's cheeks.

It's so strange, to be only millimeters from where Tyler wants to kiss the ever-loving frick out of his best friend, with Josh staring at him with his sweet gaze. 

It feels like centuries have passed where they just share their small, intimate space of oxygen.

"Thank you, Ty," he says sincerely, smiling a little as he leans forward, missing Tyler's lips by a mere centimeter and kissing the corner of his mouth, his cheek.

Tyler feels a tear fall onto his own cheek, and for a moment, he thinks he might be the one crying, but in reality, it's Josh, eyes scrunched up tight as his arms go around to hold the brunet tightly.

The rest of the night goes smoothly; for once, Josh isn't crying from pain and Tyler isn't passing out from mere exhaustion.

Josh's laughter is his strength, his smile is pure energy.

Tyler's presence is Josh's only real medicine, his steadying hands and careful gaze his only true cure. 

Or so the brunet thinks hopefully.

When Tyler draws him his bath after their first meal at the table in months, pouring extra strawberry bubbles into the warm water, Josh is already using his darling puppy eyes, scarily resembling their pet as he sheds his clothing slowly, keeping his eyes on his best friend. 

"J," he sighs, trying but failing to ignore how the verdant-haired boy sticks out his bottom lip in an adorable pout, tugging on his wrist half-heartedly.

"C'mon, Tyler," he pleads, nothing but innocence in his sugary voice. "Please get in."

"But--"

"Just tonight," Josh begs. "I'll keep my boxers on if it'll make you more comfortable, just.."

"J, sweetheart, you don't gotta do that," Tyler sighs, but he already feels his will bending as Josh tugs him again, his whiskey eyes growing wider with hope.

It takes a few seconds before his resolve crumbles.

"Fine," Tyler relents, pulling off his uncomfortable starchy shirt and his black skinny jeans. 

The tub is small, much too petite for two grown men. But Josh is small, his bones thin and brittle, and Tyler's always been lanky no matter how many times he tried to put on some weight, so they both make it work, with Josh practically lying on top of his best friend, pale, cool cheek against his tan shoulder and hand gently swirling the bubble storm around them.

"Comfy?" Tyler chuckles when they finally settle in their position, Josh purring a soft sound of affirmation like the adorable kitten he is.

It's nicer than Tyler wants to admit, just having a silent cuddling session underwater, the warmth surrounding them and swallowing them whole.

They don't speak much; there's something about the quiet atmosphere, the soft ripples in the water created by Josh's timid hands, the dimmed glow of the lone lightbulb hanging from the ceiling making the air feel magical.

It's Josh's breath, however, against his chest that makes the whole situation feel mystical, sacred.

The night ends with the both of them toweling off, climbing into the same bed, something unspoken and suffocating in the air yet Tyler doesn't know if he'd rather have it any other way.

Josh crawls close to Tyler, happily descending to lie his head on his shoulder as his skinny arms wrap around the brunet's waist.

They lie in the silence for a long while, both of them just breathing.

For a second, Tyler thinks about just letting it go, just falling asleep. It'd been a perfect evening (as perfect as it was going to get anyway), but there's still a small nagging voice, a twinge of doubt that's keeping him awake.

And Tyler, wanting to remove the spiderweb as soon as possible, knowing he won't be able to go to bed thinking about it all night, quietly mumbles,

"Josh?"

Half-lidded, syrup eyes look up at him.

"I've been meaning to ask..." he swallows nervously. "Umm..what are we?"

Josh tilts his head.

"You know," Tyler scrambles to clarify. "Um..tomorrow. When we wake up."

"You mean," Josh pauses, seeming to think over it for a moment. "What will our..status be?"

"R-relationship wise, yes," the brunet confirms nervously, barely able to meet the other boy's gaze even in the lowlight of the moon.

When Josh doesn't say anything for a few minutes, Tyler takes it on himself to fill in the silence.

"We've been best friends for so long, ever since middle school. And to be honest? I thought it was enough," he begins, biting his lip so hard it feels like it'll bleed at any moment. "But now, after your parents died and you came to live with me, I feel like it's changed."

"Our f-friendship?" Josh whispers hesitantly.

"Not even that, J. Just...our entire need for each other, I think.."

The green-haired boy nods in agreement, and it inflates Tyler with a little hope. 

"Josh," Tyler takes the other's hands, forces himself to look into his best friend's eyes even with how scared he feels. From the looks of it, Josh is scared too. "I.. I want you. I want to be with you."

Josh stares, gulps. "Ty," he murmurs, "I thought you were straight?"

"I thought I was too, but..no one has ever made me feel the way you make me feel, not even that girl I was dating back in high school who I thought I'd end up marrying."

"She cheated on you," Josh huffs, gripping Tyler's hands tight and placing his other shaking hand on his cheek. "She never deserved you anyway."

"Josh, baby," he exhales sharply, letting his emotions take over as he pushes forward and rests his forehead against Josh's, closing his eyes. The words stuck in his throats are said so often, are so undoubtedly true that he could never even pretend to deny them, but they still make him dizzy with nervousness. "I... I love you. I love you so much."

Silence follows his confession for too long, the pause suffocating.

"J?" Tyler whispers, opening his eyes and feeling his stomach drop at the sight of the tears in his love's eyes. "Baby? What's... Josh, please say something."

"I..." Josh's mouth hangs open but nothing comes out, and he looks so lost, his gaze falling to the wall behind Tyler as he visibly thinks.

"Josh," Tyler frames his cheeks, forces him to look him in the eye. "Please.. say you love me back, please."

"Tyler," and the amount of sheer pain in his voice already breaks the brunet's heart, and something deep inside him somehow knows things won't end well, especially with how sad and hopeless Josh looks. "Ty, you know I love you. I love you so much."

"Then what's wrong?" Tyler demands, confusion at Josh's elusiveness irking him slightly.

Why won't Josh just be with him?

"I...I just--"

"You don't love me that way, do you?" Tyler whispers, quickly releasing the other boy's hands and pulling away, the feeling of sickness and bile rising in his throat.

"What? Tyler, no, I never said that--"

"Then are we together?" Tyler cries, sick of feeling on edge. He feels like he's being kept in the dark, especially with how Josh just stares at him silently, like he knows something but doesn't care enough to share it with Tyler. 

"Tyler, please calm down," Josh begs, reaching to grasp his best friend's hands again, but the older boy selfishly keeps them away, even going as far as to getting out of the bed. "Ty--"

He feels childish as he crosses his arms, but his heart's breaking in his chest, and it almost feels like he'll be able to protect it this way. "Don't--don't you want to be with me, J?"

Josh's silence is enough of an answer for the brunet, who begins shaking as the voice in his head begins hissing, 'I told you he wouldn't want to be with you.'

"Please forget I said any of this," Tyler grits out, leaving no room for Josh to get in a word before he's quickly retreating back to his own room, footsteps heavy and quick.

He slams the door shut, locking it. He barely registers himself pushing his back towards it, sliding down slowly as his world comes crashing down, his hopes, his dream. 

His silly, foolish dream.

Because in what twisted fantasy did Josh ever love him back?

He's sobbing into his hands before he knows it, deep, painful cries ripping his throat raw. 

He doesn't even startle when he hears gentle knocks, not with how broken he feels.

"Ty..."

"Leave!" he shouts, unable to stop the sub level of anger from arising. It's ironic, that Josh would come trying to heal his wound after ripping it open, but of course, his best friend is the sweetest person in the world, the most considerate human being in the universe.

It's one of the things that made Tyler fall in love with him anyway.

"Tyler, please," Josh sighs, knocking a few more times. "Please open the door. We can talk about it, okay?"

"I get it," he hisses through his tears, heart clenching painfully. "You don't want to be with a freak like me, but stop rubbing it in and leave me alone!"

"I never said that--"

"Well it doesn't matter, does it?" he laughs humorlessly, and a part of him wonders how Josh can be so inadvertently cruel, trying to spark hope in his already shattered soul. "Even a deaf person could understand what you were trying to say."

He hears a heavy sigh, feels as Josh leans against the door and slides down to sit on the floor in like manner.

"Tyler, we can talk, okay?" his voice trembles, in the same way it does when he's in pain, when he's sick and scared. It crushes the brunet's heart for a split second. "Just open the door and we'll talk."

And for the first time in years, a feeling of resentment, pure bitterness, raw anger, rises up and takes over, coloring Tyler's words in hideous shades and tones.

"Y'know what, Josh?" he whispers darkly, tears standing still in his eyes for a minute as all he feels is pain, a hatred, though shallow as it is, undoubtedly present. "You can fuck off."

Josh is silent for a few minutes, and it stretches into much longer than that, becoming half hours to full hours in the blink of an eye.

Tyler's unable to sleep, to even move to his bed. 

He sits against the door, staring at blank, dirty walls; some hours crying, other hours studying the four surfaces emotionlessly.

Suddenly, everything feels empty.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We'll come back to this Friday, okay?? *dramatically drapes myself over my piano and sighs loud enough to be heard by the depths of the ocean*
> 
> Also I hope you have a good day and I'm sorry again and I love you please don't leave me ;-;


	4. Chapter Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't think y'all understand how much I want to add more, but at the same time, leave it as it is.
> 
> I'm so torn T_T

Dawn comes faster than he realizes, the sun rising in it's annoyingly vibrant rays.

The alarm on his phone rings on, and he forces himself up, joints aching and popping from sitting in the same position for hours.

He feels tired, but now, it's different.

He feels dead too.

It's a wonder he's able to change into his constricting working clothes, making himself look semi-presentable minus the dark circles under his eyes, the hollows in his cheeks.

When he opens the door, he finds Josh lying, curled on the floor.

Pilot is sleeping silently beside him, cuddled next to his arm.

Tyler's heart, though damaged and broken as it is, twitches when he sees the knee braces Josh took time to put on after Tyler had ran into his own room, as if he knew he'd been standing for a considerable amount of time.

And as angry and hurt as Tyler is, no matter how much he doesn't want to touch or even so much as look at the source of his pain, his mind is too loud, his conscience too sharp to just leave his best friend lying on the hardwood floors.

He bends over, picks him up and cradles him in his arms. The walk to Josh's bedroom seems longer, much farther than he remembers.

It's a sad thought, to know this would probably be the last time he held Josh for a long while, so Tyler finds a part of himself holding onto the moment, the weak heart of the green-haired boy beating slowly against Tyler's own chest in the painstakingly familiar way.

He places him in his bed carefully, pulls blankets over his frigid skin. Josh twitches in his sleep, and Tyler's eyes fill with tears.

He leaves.

 

••••• 

 

The worried looks of his coworkers, the overbearing questions laid on Tyler from a certain strawberry blonde makes his mood tip more and more as the day goes on. It gets to the point where he skips his lunch break just to have a distraction, and he's thankful for the seemingly endless pile of papers that finally seem to serve a purpose. 

The thought of going home makes Tyler cringe internally every time he looks at the clock, but the one time he wants time to slow down, the little hand seems to only move faster and faster.

Pretty soon, everyone's packing up their things, turning off the computers or printing their final files.

For the first time in Tyler's life, he wouldn't mind staying overnight, no matter how much he hates this damn place.

Patrick, although having spent the day leaving the brunet alone after sensing his bad mood, peeks over the cubicle wall, a rare timidity painted across his face.

"Tyler?"

The brunet doesn't look up at him, just continues sluggishly shoving his papers into his briefcase.

"What?"

He hears Patrick gulp a little, and it makes Tyler feel a little bad, knowing he had no right or reason to be angry or bitchy towards the older man.

"So...?"

Tyler collapses in his seat, pressing his face into his hands. He's pretty sure he'd burst into tears right then and there if it weren't for the fact that he was so emotionally and physically drained.

He can't speak, not even to answer Patrick's innocently vague question, so he simply shakes his head, the lump in his throat heavy and unbearable. 

And to think that he was hopeful about the situation just a day earlier.

"Man, I'm...really sorry, Ty," Patrick sighs, reaching over and squeezing the brunet's shoulder.

If he were anyone else, Tyler would have swat his hand away and angrily demanded him to keep his hands to himself, but this is Patrick.

So Tyler simply swallows the lump in his throat, nodding silently.

"Do you want me to drive you back home, Tyler? I don't think you're in any condition to--"

"I'm fine," Tyler grits out, standing up hastily and grabbing his briefcase without much care, lip wobbling with his determination stop being so sensitive, to stop acting like his hopes and dreams weren't entirely shattered just a few hours before.

Patrick looks wary, like he wants to argue, but he only nods, meekly whispering a soft farewell before slipping away.

The drive home is like being stuck in judgement after death, the uncertainty of his fate, not knowing whether he was going to heaven or hell, scarily alike.

The courage to just enter his apartment is something unfound, but something he can't be bothered to wait around for. He enters without much thought, just forcing himself to do it quickly before his mind begins screaming at him.

There's no sign of Josh up and walking, and Tyler expects it. Being on his feet for however long he had been last night must have been taxing for his strength; there was technically no way he would be up and walking for at least another week or two. He quickly goes into the kitchen, ignoring the puppy that bounds happily out of Josh's room and begins running around his feet. It hurts to just pretend Pilot isn't fighting for his attention, yapping happily and jumping up and down. Unfortunately, the edge Tyler had been precariously balanced over for the entire day tips slightly as Pilot pushes his patience, and he ends up snapping at his pet.

It sends the poor sweetheart whimpering and rushing away, but Tyler is much too upset to feel extremely bad, only refocusing on his task at hand: heating up leftovers.

Apparently, he doesn't have the heart to just leave his best friend going hungry, no matter how deeply the green-haired boy hurt his feelings.

When he walks down the hallway with Josh's bowl of stir fry, he finds his steps slowing, anxiety spiking as he hears soft hushing sounds. It was undoubtedly Josh comforting their puppy, and it makes Tyler's stomach turn. 

He keeps his eyes down, mouth shut as he hastily barges into the other's room. Something screams at him to look at Josh, but he knows he won't survive such a feat, so he doesn't.

But no matter how much he tries to pretend the other boy isn't there, no matter how much he tries to ignore his stifling presence, Josh seems to be taking an opposite approach to the situation.

The moment Tyler takes his first step into his room, he's already speaking. 

"Tyler, there you are," he sounds so relieved, like he thought Tyler would just up and abandon him, and it makes the brunet's heart hurt. 

And freeze over.

"Can we talk?" he asks meekly as Tyler places his food silently on the bedside table, still keeping his eyes away from his best friend. "You didn't open your door last night and--"

"Stop," Tyler spits out more venomously than he intends, but it doesn't seem to deter the other boy much, as he continues,

"--I was really worried because all I wanted was for us to talk, so I could just explain--"

"Stop!" Tyler shouts, finally snapping his head up and glaring at the green-haired boy, startling both himself and Josh. "For fuck's sake, you just don't know when to shut up, do you?"

And there it is, the disbelief and horror, the look of pain in Josh's eyes that comes after Tyler's harsh words. But it's a different pain this time, because it's his medicine that is his poison.

And it doesn't take but a few seconds for the regret to settle in, Tyler's anger becoming a simmering but apologetic resentment.

"I'm sorry," he forces out, voice strained as his hand comes up to pinch the bridge of his nose. "I'm sorry, Josh. I didn't mean that, but I just... I can't right now."

Josh is silent for a long while, eyes still wide as his hands unknowingly clench the sheets in a somewhat fearful anticipation.

"Can't..what?" he inquires so softly, afraid of the possibility that he could be asking the wrong question.

Tyler's unable to stop himself to mull over the question for at least a moment, because his mouth is opening faster than he realizes and he's saying,

"I can't deal with you right now."

And if Tyler thought the hurt look on Josh's face from just a couple minutes earlier was bad enough, the absolute pain that overtakes his pale face is so much worse than before.

"Tyler," he chokes, and his hand reaches out as he tries his best to shift himself on the bed, wincing as he tries to move himself closer to his best friend.

But Tyler quickly recoils, taking a few steps back and shaking his head.

"No, Josh," he says firmly although his will is wavering more than ever, although a large part of his broken heart is begging to just go over to Josh, to just take his hand.

"Please, please," and the desperation in his voice is more soul wrenching than he could imagine, "we can talk about it, please, Tyler, please--"

"There's nothing to talk about," he snaps before his feet are moving, taking him out of the room, despite Josh calling him back, shouting his name.

He quickly retreats into his own room, shutting the door and locking it.

With his hand wrapped around the knob, silent tears filling his eyes, he feels the key to his heart turning.

He does nothing, thinks nothing to stop it from locking itself away.

And that's the way he closes off his heart.

 

•••••

 

He doesn't talk to Josh for the next few days, no matter how pleadingly the other boy looks at him, no matter how many times he looks ready to fall to his knees if it didn't mean risking a fracture or two.

Josh is absolutely heartbroken, but he's holding something back and Tyler knows it. It shows in the way he keeps promising that they can talk, like it'll fix everything somehow. 

But he also doesn't look ready to share his secret, because he always ends up shutting his mouth, gulping it down like he does with his medicine. 

So Tyler doesn't push it.

He doesn't really know what Josh could say that would make things better anyways.

 

•••••

 

As expected, after a week passes between them, with Tyler still refusing to look at his best friend but also refusing to let him go uncared for, Josh seems to have given up.

He stops begging Tyler to speak to him, stops trying to grab his hands and hold them close like he used to.

He's silent, scarily so.

Tyler feeds him, bathes him, helps him walk to the bathroom and back, but he doesn't say a word, doesn't spare him a second glance.

It's part of his healing process, Tyler tells himself when he feels guilty, the absolute sorrow he always catches on Josh's face with short glimpses making his stomach flip sadly. 

But above all the suffering and the radio silence static between them, Tyler finds himself missing his best friend. 

The hole Josh had left behind is like no other, his sudden yet expected shutdown leaving the house practically soulless, lifeless.

Even Pilot senses something is wrong, because he sulks around all day, barely eating or drinking like his owners.

Tyler finds himself getting more and more on edge without someone to talk to, without having a companion to vent to. He's constantly cracking his knuckles, a nervous tick, and flicking his pen in his hand, an anxious tick.

It's horrible, living like he doesn't have Josh in his life anymore, but Tyler tells himself that it's better this way.

Or so he thinks.

One night, while he's up doing the draining task of paying bills and shifting through papers, he finds a couple of unfamiliar, stapled leaflets buried under the mountain of papers they have on their coffee table.

Curious, he pulls it out, opening it.

At first, he thinks it's just another review sheet of a doctor's visit from a few months ago or so. He's ready to fold it up, put it away, until something catches his eye.

His heart drops.

 

••••••

 

Tyler calls in sick the next day.

Another night without sleep, another night spent crying himself till his cheeks were nearly raw with salt.

But this time, he's sitting on the floor, back against the wall, facing Josh's bed.

It takes a while for the green-haired boy to wake up, only stirring lightly in his sleep every now and then.

Before, watching Josh sleep brought peace to Tyler, knowing he wasn't in pain, knowing his body was finally getting a chance to mend itself.

But now, knowing the truth, knowing that Josh's body was slowly shutting down, that, at this point, he was just practicing death whenever his eyes would close and his breath would slow, it makes Tyler go nearly mad, his head screaming at him.

It feels like a Christmas miracle when Josh's eyes finally flutter open, when his unfocused, syrup eyes catch sight of Tyler and widen.

They both stare at each other silently for what feels like centuries, both in worse shape than what they initially believed the other to be in.

It's Tyler who finds his voice first, though rough and broken as it is.

"So when where you going to tell me, huh?" he chokes out, and it's already the hardest question he ever forced himself to say, no matter how vague it is.

Josh's eyes widen. "T-tell you what?" he whispers, words still rough with sleep.

"Stop!" Tyler jumps up, the exhaustion and strain he feels feeding the irrational anger that spikes up. He's tired of being lied to. "Josh, please! Cut the bullshit and tell me what's going on."

The other boy's eyes quickly fill with tears as he slowly sits up, hands shaking as he grips the thick comforter of his bed.

He opens his mouth a few times, but no words come out, even when he tears his eyes away and tries to speak again.

Nothing he could ever do would give him the courage or strength to confess the truth so directly to Tyler though, so he's silent.

Tyler, on the other hand, is fuming, but this time, it's pain, sorrow, that fuels his rage. 

He pulls the stapled, inconspicuous papers from his pocket, smoothing it out as best as he can with shaky hands.

It's wrinkled, the ink somewhat smeared in places where Tyler's tears had fallen on it, but it doesn't matter, because from the looks on Josh's crestfallen face, he recognizes it as soon as Tyler holds it up. 

"Tell me this," he shakes the paper, "is fake."

Josh inhales sharply, looking away. "Tyler, please--"

And he sounds so pained, so guilty that Tyler has to interrupt him, because it hurts too fucking much to listen to his shaking voice. "Josh," his own voice breaks, and the tears come too soon, "this isn't real, right?"

The silence that follows is the worst response he could imagine, the way that Josh silently crumbles, little sobs escaping his lips as he rubs his eyes desperately.

It takes everything in Tyler not to rush forward and pull him into his arms.

"Josh...this can't be real," it almost comes out like a demand, but in reality, it's a plead, the way his voice trembles as a single tear makes its way down his cheek.

Josh gasps, trying to catch his breath as he sobs, hiding his face away in shame.

"Josh--"

"It's real, okay?" the other boy grits out, sounding so much more strained than Tyler's ever heard him. And even with how much Tyler was expecting the next sentence, even with how much he contemplated what it would sound like, what kind of horrible effect it could have on him, it's so much worse hearing it out loud.

"I..I have cancer, alright?"

Just like that, the air is knocked out of Tyler, and it takes everything in him to not just fall apart again.

"W-when did you find out?" he demands, starting to shake with how badly he tries to keep himself from crying, though his efforts are vain.

Josh begins shaking too though, biting his lip momentarily.

"I found out a few weeks ago, when you went to work," he confesses. "I was feeling horrible, having the difficulty breathing and all. I...I thought it was my asthma but I passed out."

Tyler's eyes widen and he stands up on shaky legs. "H-how did--"

"When I woke up, I went to the ER," he says softly, frowning and wiping his eyes when he sees the horrified look on Tyler's face. "Don't worry, I didn't walk, I went on the bus."

Tyler feels like he's been punched in the gut, the guilt of failing to be there for his best friend making him feel even more sick. "Josh--"

"They used an x-ray on me, Ty," he whispers. "It's like they knew something was really bad right when they saw me--"

He chokes off, looking away. 

Josh looks so small, so broken as he sits on his bed, surrounded by blankets too large and thick for such a tiny human as he rubs his eyes.

Tyler can't find it in himself to stay away any longer, can't deny the fact that all he wants, or more accurately, all he needs, is to hold Joshua in his arms tightly.

The second he rushes forward, pulling his best friend into his arms, getting the sweet, nearly overwhelming scent of Josh's soft being back into his system, a sob escapes his lips.

Josh cries too, clinging onto Tyler.

"I-I have heart cancer," he sobs as he pushes his face into the brunet's chest, feeling how it's racked violently with Tyler's sharp intakes of oxygen. 

"No...no, fuck, Josh," Tyler whispers, shaking like a leaf as he holds his love tightly. 

They both stay in one another's embrace for a long while, just holding onto each other and sobbing. There aren't many words left to be said, only pain to run its course through their systems.

Tyler's lungs feel like they're collapsing by the time he's reduced to a hiccuping mess, having moved from standing up to lying back in Josh's bed like the fateful Wednesday night. He holds Josh close as the other boy sniffles, being reduced to silent, streaming tears.

"Baby," his voice is so rough, so ruined and stuffy with tears, his hands rubbing staccato patterns onto Josh's back gently, not knowing if he was trying to comfort his best friend or himself. "I'm so sorry, Josh. I'm so fucking sorry."

"It's okay," Josh whispers, and no, it's not okay, but Tyler doesn't voice this, only shaking his head and pressing his face into his best friend's green curls. 

"We gotta start treatment for you, J," Tyler murmurs, cupping his wet, pale cheek and lifting his face gently, heart breaking at the obvious tear streaks marking his face. 

"It'll be useless," Josh looks down, shaking his head as he bites his lip, and the mere hopelessness in his voice makes Tyler want to rip out his own heart. 

"It can help," the brunet assures, stroking his cheek ever so gently with his thumb. "It's saved lives before, baby."

"It won't save this one," Josh chokes out, and before Tyler can argue any further, another heartwrenching piece of information slips out of his lips. "The doctor said I'll be lucky if I live for four months, and that was nearly three weeks ago."

And just like that, when Tyler thought it couldn't be more possible for his heart to break anymore, another tear slips out of his eye. "Josh--"

"I'm dying, Tyler. I'm dying."

 

•••••••

 

For the next few days, Tyler cancels his work. 

He sits with Josh, trying to figure out something they can do, something that will help his sickness. 

The next few days are so intense, the emotions floating in the air sharp and vibrant, open like a fresh wound. The green-haired boy looks more tired every day, and it shows in the way he leans against the wall, slumping in his bed. 

Treatment to remove tumors or start chemotherapy are too expensive and definitely out of Tyler's range, and it makes him want to scream, throw himself off the nearest building because he doesn't feel like he's doing enough, or helping in any sort of way.

He breaks down when Josh asks him what's wrong, tells him how he feels about the whole situation. Josh only frowns, shaking his head, and pulling Tyler into his arms and telling him that it's okay.

Minutes turn into hours, hours turn into days.

With every little movement of time, Tyler feels Josh slip away more and more out of his fingers, no matter how much he tries to hold on.

It's one night, while they're lying in bed, Josh's head heavy against Tyler's chest and his soft wheezes for air filling the atmosphere that Josh speaks softly.

"Ty?"

"Yeah, Josh?"

There's a small pause, and Josh's voice drops to a tone so quiet, his words become the soft flutters of a hummingbird's wing. 

"You...you know now why I didn't say I wanted to be with you, right?" 

Tyler feels his heart clench tightly, like his soul is grasping it in its unforgiving grip, just to keep it from exploding right then and there.

"We don't have to talk about that--"

"I do want to be with you," Josh clarifies, looking up at his best friend with shiny, almond eyes. "That's all I've ever wanted.. but now this happened. And I just..." he lets out a small, self-deprecating laugh as he shakes his head hopelessly. "I can't be so selfish to give myself to you, only to be taken away by my body a few months later."

A tear silently makes its way down Tyler's cheek. "Sweetheart," he whispers, placing his hand in Josh's curls and carding gently through them. "I'm sorry I got angry at you, okay? I'm so sorry..it's just.. I was really hurt, because I wanted to be with you so badly that when you said 'no,' my heart just couldn't...I thought you didn't love me back."

Josh shakes his head incredulously, looking up with his own teary eyes. "Of course I love you, Ty. I love you more than you can imagine."

"You know.." Tyler sighs. "I'd rather have you for a short while than never have you." 

"...really?"

"Just having you in my life for a minute makes it all worth it, J," he pushes his face into Josh's hair and moans with the wave of pain that comes with the thought that, in a short period of time, he wouldn't be able to hold Josh anymore.

It makes his arms around the verdant-haired boy go tighter. 

"I love you so much, Joshua Dun."

Josh smiles, a tear slipping out. His cold hand comes up to gently tangle itself in his brown locks, and he looks his best friend in the eye.

"I love you more, Tyler Joseph," is the last thing he whispers that night, sharing the sweetest, smallest smile with his best friend before they're both leaning in.

Josh's lips taste like all the heaven Tyler could imagine, softly sweet like glaze. It takes just a short while before the green-haired boy gets bolder, bites Tyler's lip like a soft summer peach, and opens his mouth in invitation. 

It's much sweeter in his mouth, the warm heat filling Tyler's frigid heart with life. Josh is so beautiful, pale, cold, and perfect. 

It feels like hours before Tyler lets out a shaky breath, pulling away from Josh to let his sweetheart pant for air so adorably. He pulls him closer as his heart beats in a rare sense of joviality he hadn't felt in weeks, soaks in Josh's sweet, coconut scent.

"I love you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is this supposed-to-be-a-one-shot over? ʘ‿ʘ ????
> 
> I'd really appreciate if you left some feedback, I can't remember the last time I worked so hard on a story cuz inspiration this past week came down upon me like a floodgate. 
> 
> I hope you all are doing okay and holding on <333 love you, fren!

**Author's Note:**

> I know it hurts, but please, stay alive. It's the only way we'll ever really find out if it's worth it |-/


End file.
